


A Discourse On Doubt

by rainingover



Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, M/M, Negative Body Image
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-22
Updated: 2014-05-22
Packaged: 2018-01-26 02:52:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1671971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainingover/pseuds/rainingover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yoongi makes the mistake of asking for Jimin to show him his workout routine and regrets it almost instantly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Discourse On Doubt

Yoongi hovers outside the bathroom door until Jungkook appears at the end of the corridor, looking unimpressed, and says, "Please tell me that's Taehyung in there? I've been waiting to shower _forever._ "  
  
Yoongi shakes his head  _almost_  apologetically. "Taehyung's in the bedroom," he shrugs. "It's Jimin's turn."  
  
Being second oldest means he showered almost an hour ago now and he knows that by this time of night the maknaes start to get over- tired and irritated waiting for their turn. Seven guys living together with one bathroom was never going to be an ideal arrangement.  
  
Jungkook lets out an exasperated sigh and turns back on his heels and into the kitchen, leaving Yoongi working up the courage to push open the door.  
  
Seven idols, one bathroom, no lock.  
  
It would be funny if it wasn't so tragic, Yoongi thinks as he slips into the uncomfortably steamy room with only some semblance of stealth. Five showers in and the walls become slick with condensation. And there are towels  _everywhere_.  
  
He suddenly feels pretty damn lucky he only has to put up with Jin before he showers. Jin even picks up the towels  _and_  wipes down the mirror afterwards.  
  
It's basically luxury.  
  
Yoongi is staring at a hand towel adorned with Disney Princesses crumpled in the corner of the room and trying to decide which one of his bandmates would be most likely to be its owner when Jimin lets out an over exaggerated cough.  
  
"Um--Someone's in here."  
  
"Oh. Yeah, I know. I wanted to ask you something." Yoongi is hovering behind the frosted glass of the shower screen, gaze pointedly fixed on the towel in the corner of the room. "I was, um, I just--" he falters.  
  
"Suga-hyung, I have soap in my eyes.  _Come on_." Yonngi glances round the screen and notes Jimin's scrunched up eyes and uncomfortable expression.  
  
"Look, I just wondered if you'd show me your work-out routine," he says it really fast, as though he's answering a question in a radio contest and he only has two seconds on the clock to get his answer in. "The one that focuses on abs" The last word is muttered under his breath, as though it's a curse word or something (although in reality, Yoongi draws out curse words with delight.)  
  
When Yoongi steals a glance at Jimin's face again, the soap in his eyes has mysteriously disappeared and he's got that shit eating grin plastered across his cheeks. "Ahh, need my expertise do you, hyung?"  
  
He's flexing an arm muscle, even though Yoongi knows he heard the word "abs" fully well.  
  
Yoongi flashes him an unimpressed glare and starts to stalk off towards the bathroom door.  
  
 "It doesn't matter," he calls. He  _knew_ this would be the response, why did he even bother to humiliate himself like--  
  
"Be up at 5.30am tomorrow!" Jimin calls from behind the shower screen. "We'll get an hour in before everyone else needs to be up!"  
  
He sounds quite excited, to be fair.  Maybe, Yoongi thinks, he should give the dancer the benefit of the doubt.  
  
"And don't worry, hyung, if you ever want to see my manly body you can just ask. You don't need to perv on me in the shower!" Yoongi can hear the joy behind his words.  
  
The little shit.  
  
"Fuck off!" Yoongi calls as he steps out into the hallway.  
  
(But not before he places a wet footprint on Jimin's dry sweatpants.)  
  
\---  
  
Yoongi awakes to a poke in the ribs and a half naked Jimin looming over him, that grin already in place, despite the fact it's practically the middle of the night.  
  
"Tick tock, Min Suga! It's 5.28!"  
  
No. It  _is_  the middle of the night.  
  
"You said 5.30," Yoongi tries to roll over and away from Jimin's gaze, but the boy just pries the duvet from his shoulders and says, "Two minutes makes no difference. You'll feel better when you're up, I promise."  
  
This promise turns out to be completely and utterly empty.  
  
Yoongi is sat on the edge of his bed, mouth dry, and limbs tired and he  _does not_  feel better.  
  
He feels terrible. Worse than terrible, even.  
  
As he stands to pull on a pair of shorts, he stares wistfully at his unmade bed. His beautiful, comfortable bed. It's calling to him, whispering his name.  _"Yoongi, come to me, Yoongi I need you, Yoongi-"_  
  
"Hyung,  _please_ ," Jimin interrupts his delirium. He's hovering in the doorway of the bedroom, a gym bag slung over his shoulder and an annoyed look in his eyes. He whispers over the quiet hum of someone snoring. "You asked  _me_  for this."  
  
"Okay, okay," Yoongi mumbles, slipping on a tshirt and trying to push the memory of being enveloped by soft duvets out of his mind. He had asked. And it  _is_ pretty sweet of Jimin to be so enthusiastic about this, Yoongi admits. He's just--  
  
Well, he's just not that into being out of bed unless it's completely necessary. Schedules are necessary. Rehearsals and recordings are necessary. Getting up an hour before these things begin so that one's friend can guffaw at the definition of the muscles on your torso in comparison to theirs definitely isn't.  
  
Before Yoongi has time to process it, there is a glass of some sort of strange smelling green mixture in his hand, and Jimin's hand is firmly pressed around his, pushing the glass towards his face with bright eyes. "Drink it, hyung, it will keep your energy up!"  
  
It's disgusting.  
  
\---  
  
Yoongi realises that this situation, (this  _beyond_ ridiculous and tiring situation) would never have come about if he hadn't been so adamant that he needed to record his parts first.  
  
It had happened a few days earlier: the rappers had been at the studio and he'd pleaded with Namjoon to let him into the booth before the leader. He can't remember why now. Maybe his bed had been calling to him then too. Maybe he just needed it to be over, not in the best of moods. Maybe it was for a positive reason: he was feeling creative or hyped up. Maybe.  
  
This memory has faded.  
  
The memory that remains is of being stretched out across the sofa afterwards whilst he'd waited for the others. Of aimlessly tapping on his phone, playing some online game, and then suddenly having the bright idea of checking their mentions on twitter.  
  
 Just out of curiosity. Just to see what people thought of their music.  
  
(Of him.  
  
Whatever.)  
  
It's funny how easy it is to ignore all of the positive mentions, how easy it is for your eyes to focus only on the words that sting.  
  
Yoongi would never admit this, this weakness, this soft spot. Not aloud. But, those words clung to him (tight around his neck). Some random conversation he'd stumbled across, clicking from tweet to tweet, until:  
  
_kp0p636: What about Suga?_  
_btslvrrrv:  @kp0p636 Oppa's body isn't very good. I saw a photo once X(._  
_kp0p63:  @btssarangje Oppa should try harder for the fans!!_  
  
Yoongi prides himself on not giving a fuck about that kind of thing.  
  
He's a rapper, he's a lyricist, he's not even nearly a bad dancer. He isn't a singer, sure, but that's not important. And neither is whether, when he pinches the top of his arm, he feels soft flesh instead of solid weight or if he has well defined abdominal muscles.  
  
Jimin gets his out more than is necessary, anyway. The amount of shirtless selcas that boy has in his phone that he is always threatening to tweet is probably bordering on narcissistic.  
  
But, that's okay, he guesses. Yoongi sometimes thinks it's downright adorable how convinced the younger boy is that the fans are _desperate_  for a shirtless selca featuring Park Jimin. But he's never admitted this aloud.  
  
No, this kind of thing doesn't bother Yoongi. Except, he couldn't get those words out of his mind.  
  
Should try harder.  _Should try harder_. As though he'd been letting people down all this time. So he'd been thrown off balance, something tugging at his chest like a clenched fist.  
  
He'd kept searching; typing in different variations of Suga and body and abs and then  _unattractive_ , ignoring thousands of adoring tweets and highlighting anything he could construe as a negative. And then he'd not been able to sleep for two nights, slipping out of bed and taking off his tee in the bathroom, squinting at his reflection in the mirror, trying to be objective about himself and failing.  
  
And maybe it had been a dumb idea to go to Jimin, of all people.  
  
Possibly, he thinks, as they slip through the dorm door and into the morning, involving the bright eyed teen is an even dumber idea than checking those tweets was in the first place.  
  
But it's too late now, steps loud on the pavement as they make their way to the company gymnasium at 5.40am, the air cold, and the darkness around them reminding him that schedules don't begin for another sixty minutes.  
  
Jimin nudges Yoongi's shoulder and says, "At the gym... I promise to be gentle at first." and Yoongi takes in his puppy-dog eyes and finds it somewhat amusing that he has no idea how dirty that sounds.  
  
It really is quite cute.  
  
( Yoongi would never admit this aloud.)  
  
\---  
  
He's used to dancing now, he's used to being on his feet, to enduring physical activity for 17 hours a day. But this is different. The burning is concentrated, the deep ache skewers through his body.  
  
He wishes he'd brought a lighter gym bag. Or no gym bag.  
  
No  _gym_  would be nice, actually.  
  
"Hyung?" When Yoongi finally looks up, he notes that Jimin's face is etched with lines of concern as he pushes his gym shorts into the opening of his bag, swings it onto his shoulder. "Did you have fun?"  
  
"Of course I did," Yoongi lies, and almost regrets it when he watches Jimin's features transform into a big smile, eyes sparkling, flush of pride (or maybe ego) spreading up his neck.  
  
"Oh. Good." Jimin is still smiling, although he's looking at his feet now. "So, you want to-- tomorrow?"  
  
And then he glances back up again, big eyes filled with hope, and  Yoongi hears a disembodied voice telling his friend that he is definitely up for that, before he realises that his mouth is moving and words are escaping.  
  
"Thanks Jiminie," he adds, and regrets it instantly.  
  
It's just.  
  
Well. Park Jimin is too fucking cute when he's trying to be a good bandmate.  
  
(Although this will never be admitted to a living soul.)  
  
\---  
  
On the fourth morning Jimin lets Yoongi sleep in until 5.35am.  
  
Yoongi practically growls as he enters the kitchen. "That  _wasn't_ a lie in."  
  
Jimin hands him a glass of fresh, green liquid, but not before he licks the rim of the overflowing glass with a grin. As if that's normal behaviour when passing someone a drink.  
  
Yoongi wants to scold him for it, to take out his frustration on someone else.  
  
But then Jimin says, "This is fun right?" And looks so incredibly hopeful, that Yoongi feels his resolve float away, can practically see it slipping out of the door.  
  
So, instead, he begrudgingly takes a sip of the energy concoction and tries his hardest not to pull a face. Says "Thanks" and takes another sip whilst trying to decide what kind of injury he could feign that would mean not having to go through with the workout he'd pushed for, but that wouldn't worry his bandmates.  
  
Just one of those fake, non life threatening, not even schedule threatening, totally reversible ailments.  
  
Before Yoongi has come to any conclusion he's on the pavement, following Jimin towards the gym.  
  
\---  
  
That night he stands in front of the mirror, towel wrapped around his waist, shower still running, so that he isn't hurried out of the only private space in the dorm (albeit, a private space with no working lock) and squints at his reflection, decides maybe he was over-reacting, maybe he should just admit to Jimin that he'd jumped the gun in recruiting his involvement in this make-over masterplan. That he really doesn't give a flying fuck about what he looks like with his shirt off.  
  
The only people who see him without it on are his bandmates anyway. And it's not like he cares what any of them think of him.  
  
Well. Not really.  
  
But just as his mind adds a big, bolded tick next to "Quit this pointless torture", Yoongi hears the familiar chime of his phone's notification tone.  
  
And then those tweets, or that tweet, (was it just one tweet? he isn't even sure anymore) pop into his head, filtered to the top of the page, tick erased, doubt in place, and when he wipes the steam away from the mirror he's convinced the reflection is laughing at him.  
  
(If only for a second.)  
  
\---  
  
It's an hour later when Jimin slips into bed next to him.  
  
Yoongi can't quite bring himself to push the younger boy away, just says "Yes?", closes his eyes and hopes Jimin might disappear literally if he isn't there to see.  
  
"Let's not get up early tomorrow," Jimin whispers, snuggling ( _snuggling_ ) in at his side. "Let's just sleep until usual time."  
  
"Why?" Yoongi opens his eyes again, suspicious.  
  
It comes out in a small voice. "I-- I can tell you don't want to do it. Not really," Jimin falters for a moment, but then continues, "And, anyway... You don't  _need_ to do any extra, you know,  _body_  stuff. You know that right?"  
  
Yoongi suddenly feels emotional (although he's sure that's just the tiredness), suddenly feels the urge to pull Jimin close and rest his chin on top of the dark mass of hair atop his head, and to press hand around the younger's shoulder.  
  
Instead he snorts. "Says Mr Washboard Abs." It comes out tasting bitter on the tip of his tongue.  
  
"No. Says the short and fat looking one." Jimin replies in a small voice that reminds Yoongi that he's still an impressionable teenager, despite the greasy grin and stupidly toned back.  
  
This time Yoongi does slip an arm awkwardly underneath his neck and curls  a hand around his shoulder reassuringly.  
  
"Jiminie... I've spent almost an entire week watching you do sit ups. I can testify that you are definitely not fat. You're-- your body is  _good_. But don't you dare quote me on that," he punctuates his confession with a laugh.  
  
Yoongi doesn't even have to turn his head to know that Jimin's got one of _those_  smiles on right now, and for once he is glad.  
  
"Thanks hyung," Jimin whispers. Adds quickly, "Yours too."  
  
Yoongi lets Jimin press his face into his neck shyly and rolls his eyes, staring up at the ceiling as he tries to piece together exactly how he ended up tucked in close to Park Jimin trading encouraging remarks about each other's physiques.  
  
Compliments, even.  
  
Jimin mumbles, "Can I stay here for a while?"  
  
Yoongi hesitates. He has to admit this is nice .It's warm, and comforting, and serene. Yoongi feels the aching in his muscles from days of unwarranted torture start to dissipate slightly.  
  
 There is a boy under his arm with the body to rival a Classical statue who thinks that he looks  _fat_ , a boy with puppy dog eyes and full lips and, apparently, an annoying habit of curling his foot around the leg of whomever has stupidly allowed him to slide into bed with them.  
  
Jimin, somewhere between dreaming and sleepily rubbing his nose behind Yoongi's ear, shifts and the flat palm of his hand inexplicably finds its way inside Yoongi's tshirt. "Suga is sexy," he burbles against Yoongi's ear and Yoongi has to resist the urge to flinch. Thinks maybe he's heard wrong and hisses "pardon?" back, as quietly as possible whilst still conveying dismay.  
  
"Twitter... Your mentions," Jimin gets out, voice laced with sleep. His palm is still extremely present on Yoongi's body, fingertips tickling as they ghost across the skin. "The top one... So many retweets... It said "Suga oppa is sexy." The fans are always right."  
  
Yoongi takes time to process this. "How did you know that was why--?"  
  
But Jimin doesn't grace him with a reply, just purrs against his neck and yawns, "Sleep."  
  
It's really fucking cute.  
  
(And maybe,  _just maybe_ , Yoongi will one day admit this aloud.  
  
But definitely not tonight.)


End file.
